


Reversal

by Pansychic27213



Series: Fanfic Transfers (2015 Edition) [40]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Albion died tragically whoops, Alternate Universe - Human, Big Brothers, Emotional, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Hurt/Comfort, Kindergarten, Native America is a character!, Role Reversal, These bois are soft and nerdy, Various people are roped into various things, danny phantom - Freeform, doctor who - Freeform, smol arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansychic27213/pseuds/Pansychic27213
Summary: Alfred is a big brother!...To Arthur?Yes! It's a human AU where the younger countries are older, and the older countries are younger! Adorable five year olds getting into mischief is what I needed to cure my drama-angst addiction! It didn't work!





	1. Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Published: 09/18/2015
> 
> Inspired by this fanart: https://www.google.com/search?q=hetalia+fanart+big+brother+american+little+brother+england&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiFo5zwjJPlAhUhHzQIHbeVBt0Q_AUIEigB&biw=1280&bih=610#imgrc=fP-KrW7zG5SCNM:

Reversal

[Chapter 1- Morning]

"Artie, time to wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."

The cheerful voice drifted into the quaint room. Gentle sunlight poured over the floors in puddles from between the thick, forest green curtains. The faint light accented the shimmery green wallpaper and light brown carpet. A single beam of light managed to reflect off the mirror on the cherry-wood dresser directly into the sleepy eyes of the being under the thick green quilt.

With an irritated grunt, the human rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

The white door to the room creaked quietly as it opened. A tall blonde in a black muscle shirt and camo cargo pants leaned against the door frame. His silver dog tags caught the sunlight.

"Come on, Artie~!" He teased quietly. "Didn't you want to go to the park today?"

An incoherent mumble sounded from the pillow.

"What was that?" The man mocked lightly, grinning like an idiot. He crossed his arms playfully and waited for the inevitable response.

Grumpily, the bed's inhabitant sat up with a sleep-ruffled appearance. "It's too early for the park," he muttered, a slight British lilt to his voice.

"Yeah, it is. But you still need to get dressed and come down for breakfast," the adult smiled warmly. Artie was so cute with his little flannel pajamas and fluffy, uncombed hair.

"Fine." The six year old sleepily made his way to the closet and stared at the clothing with a blank expression. "Well?"

"Too tired to make the hard choices, huh?" Alfred teased and finally made his way into the room. He easily scooped the small boy up and settled him on his hip. "What were you thinking?"

"My vest," Arthur replied tiredly and laid his head against the man's shoulder. "And my boots."

"And the boots. Of course," the man replied with fond exasperation. "Why don't you wear a button up shirt with the vest, some shorts because we'll be at the park, and those long socks you like?"

"I guess," the child yawned.

"Man, you really are tired," Alfred snorted and shifted the boy so he could gather the correct pieces of clothing. "Must of been all that partying you did last night."

"I did no such thing!" The six year old cried, indignant. "Mint Bunny would never allow such a thing, and Brownie would worry terribly!"

"I'm kidding, kid. Geez, loosen up," the taller blonde laughed lightly. Artie could be a real snot sometimes, but only when they were in private. It just showed how far he had come...

When Alfred had the correct pieces of clothing, he stood Arthur on the bed and started to help him get dressed. The boy moodily pushed his hands away, struggling to do the buttons himself.

"I'm six now. I can get dressed by myself," he snapped quietly. Eventually, he got his pajamas off, and the twenty-year old passed him his clothing for the day. The boy tried hard, and he would have done it too if he hadn't missed a button and done his whole shirt incorrectly.

Al just laughed and helpfully pointed out the problem. The smaller blonde blushed furiously and went about fixing the buttons. When he was finally dressed, he hopped down from the bed to pull on his bright yellow rain boots. They were a gift from Uncle Mattie since his birthday was a few months ago, and he wanted to wear them every day.

Arthur then went to wash his face and brush his hair. Finally, the blue eyed man scooped him up and carried him down the stairs to their cozy kitchen. The walls were a warm, pale yellow- a suggestion from Ivan who lived down the street- and their oak table took up most of the space in the middle of the room. The boy was set down by the silverware drawer; he went about setting the table as Alfred dished their plates.

Inquisitive green eyes watched the man's movements. "What are we having this morning?" Their owner asked.

"Mattie finally sent me his pancake recipe so I thought I'd try 'em out, ya know?" The bespectacled blonde placed Arthur's portion in front of him. Before taking his seat at the table, he spun the dial on the old-fashioned radio and pleasant music flooded the quiet atmosphere.

"You wanna pray today, Artie?" Alfred questioned when they were both seated. Whether God existed or not was yet to be determined, but the blondes had agreed it might be smart to do so anyway.

"Um, sure," Arthur agreed quietly. He clasped his hands together carefully and bowed his head. "Uh, Dear Lord, thank you for today and for everything you've given to us. T-thank you for giving me Alfred and Mattie and all the nice people. Thank you for our food and our house and all our other things. Um, please bless this food to our bodies. In Your name, Amen." The six year old stumbled awkwardly over the words and he was blushing by the end, but Alfred just quietly said 'Amen' in agreement and thanked him.

The blondes let the radio's music wash over them as they are their breakfast in silence. If they had been at Alfred's ma's house, the table would have been full of the neighborhood's children and happy conversation. It always felt weird to eat quietly after being raised in such a way, but Al respected that Arthur wanted to eat in silence. (Hence the radio, or else Al would have gone absolutely nuts.) Apparently, in England, it was rude to talk at the table, and that's how Arthur had been raised. Al had accepted that fact and let the six year old do as he pleased.

Breakfast was over in a few minutes, and the duo cleared the table together. Alfred washed the dishes and passed them to Arthur to be dried. A new song came on the radio.

First, Al just bounced a bit, swaying to the beat. Then, he was humming which of course led to singing. Eventually, he was dancing around the kitchen amidst Arthur's giggles. Halfway through he song, the man picked up the boy and began to dance with him. Shrieks of delight filled the house.

The song ended, but the playful mood remained. As they finished washing the dishes, the blondes occasionally flicked water at each other or made shapes with the soap bubbles. It made Alfred feel lighter than air to see his little brother so happy.

After the dishes were cleaned and the counters and table wiped down, the blondes retreated to the couch for some Saturday morning cartoons. Arthur sat on the floor in front of the TV, and Alfred was tempted to tell him it was bad for his eyesight just like his own ma had done. He knew it wasn't true, but still...

Fifteen minutes into a re-run of Danny Phantom, the twenty year old's phone rang. With a sigh, he excused himself from the room and answered the call.

"Hey-lo," he greeted somewhat brightly, somewhat tiredly. He slid a hand under the silver frames of his glasses to rub at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Al, is this a bad time?" Mattie's quiet voice came across the phone. Alfred perked up immediately.

"No, of course not! I was just expecting it to be my boss or something," he responded easily. Silently, he peeked back into the living room. Arthur still sat attentively in front of the tv. Alfred always laughed when Arthur asked to watch the 'telly.'

"Oh, what were you doing?"

"Just watching cartoons with Artie."

"Yeah? How is he doing?"

"He's great! He wishes his Uncle Mattie would visit more from Canada, though."

His twin laughed.

"Of course. I'll come down as soon as I have some time. Did he like the boots?"

"You betcha," Alfred grinned. He leaned into the doorframe again and watched Arthur kick his little yellow boots back and forth. "Doesn't go a day without them."

"Oh, dear." Matthew laughed again. "And you haven't had anymore problems?"

"No, we've been good. Hey- and I'm not trying to be rude or anything- but why'd you call?"

"I just wanted to check in, hear how you were doing. It's gets lonely up here all by myself."

"Well, you've got Emil and Tino and the gang up there with you, right?"

"Of course, but Mathias is such a handful sometimes I hardly seem them anymore."

"I'm sure he'll grow out of it. You know how kids are. What did he do this time?"

"Tried to get into some of Lukas's beer." Alfred let out a startled laugh. "He swears it was in a locked cabinet. That kid..."

"Hey, it doesn't sound nearly as bad as the time with Berwald and the axe."

"I don't think anything could ever be as bad as that," Mattie chuckled. "What about you? What's the latest, the happenings?"

"Don't try to sound cool, Mattie. It's awful."

"You're ruining my fun!"

"Like all good brothers should!" The blue eyed man thought for a moment. "Arthur's doing well in the first grade. The bullying isn't nearly as bad as last year, and Ms. Vogel seems to be handling the class better, I hear."

"Really? Vash isn't causing too much trouble for her?"

"Of course he is! When has that kid ever stopped being trouble? At least he's staying out of fights. Doesn't start 'em and doesn't end 'em."

"He's got a good heart. Loves his big sister with everything's he's got."

"Hm-mm."

The brother's were silent for a moment. The Phantom theme song played in the background, and Al could clearly hear Arthur trying to sing along to the quick lyrics.

Mattie came up with another topic. "How's work?"

"Fine."

"Uh-oh, what's that mean?"

"How are you so perceptive?"

"Don't change the subject. What happened? Is your job okay?" The older twin fretted.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Al sighed. He rubbed wearily at his forehead. "I had a small, tiny really, confrontation with my boss."

"Mr. Galante?" Matthew sounded surprised. "But he's so timid!"

"Exactly! He was letting some of the newbies push him around, and I tried to talk to him about it."

"Is he alright? What did he say?"

"He was fine. He told me he could take care of himself. Turns out he's amazing at poker."

"What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"The company game? In the break-room? Haven't I told you about this?" Al scratched his head as he tried to recall.

"No, you haven't," Mattie confirmed.

"Well there's a poker game every evening at nine," Alfred explained. "It's been going on for years. I don't go myself; you know how Ma feels about gambling, and it would be a terrible example for Artie."

"And?"

"And so every night, some of the guys get together and play poker. The newbies showed up and tried to get everyone's money. They almost did too, but Raivis stepped in and won all of it back in a snap. For all his shaking and shivering, the guy's got a mean poker face."

"That sounds cool. What did he do with the money?"

"Gave it back to everyone!"

"Wow!"

"It earned him some real respect and points with the ladies. I heard from Feliks that he's got a date with Ms. Vogel this Saturday."

"That's good. I hope they're happy," the lighter twin's voice was warm. "I heard from Feliks too."

"Yeah? What did he say?" The blue eyed man grinned and let himself lean against the wall.

"He caught up with Toris again."

"No! No way!" The twenty-year old was instantly off the wall again. He let out an excited laugh. "What happened? Did he tell you?"

"They made up. Toris agreed to leave his stupid girlfriend and move back in."

"Thank the Lord," Al sighed contentedly and leaned back against the wall once more. "I was afraid we'd lost him there for a while. It's good for him to get out of a relationship like that."

"I'm sure Feliks will give him the familiar support he needs right now. It's going to be hard," Matthew agreed.

"Hey, if you heard from Toris, just tell him he's always welcome here. We've got a spare room I always keep open."

"I know you do, Al."

There was another brief silence before Arthur bounded out into the hall.

"Alfred!" He whined. "You're missing the whole program!"

"Arthur, I'm on the phone," Alfred gave him a pointed look, and the boy blushed at his own rudeness. "It's Uncle Mattie. Do you wanna say hi?" The six year old immediately perked up and nodded eagerly. "Okay, Matt, I'm putting Artie on."

The American handed the phone over to the shorter blonde.

"Hullo, Uncle Mattie," Arthur greeted, suddenly shy. He scraped his boot covered foot across the carpet. "I'm doing well, thank you. How are you?" He smiled, and Alfred couldn't help a grin of his own. "School's good. The frog and his toads are leaving me alone." The Brit blushed, and the twenty-year old could just make out Matthew's laughter on the other end. "Yes! I love them!" The child smiled happily down at his boots. "Thank you so much!" There was a slight pause before Arthur quietly said, "I miss you, Uncle Mattie. When are you coming to visit?" He face fell a little. "Okay... Yes... Okay... I-I love you too! Bye-bye!" The boy quickly handed the phone back to Alfred and ran into the living room.

"Gosh, I know it's only been a few months, but he sounds so much older!" Matthew whined into the phone. Alfred laughed heartily.

"We've been working on his conversation skills," he informed lightly. "And his manners."

"Yeah, I can tell. Any other news we can gossip about, or should you get back?" The twins laughed.

"Well," Alfred thought for a moment before his blue eyes lit up. "Oh, how could I forget!"

"What?"

"You remember my co-worker, Ludwig, yeah?"

"The tall blonde with the organization issues?"

"That's the one. And you remember how he was looking for a roommate for his apartment?"

"Yeah?"

"Someone moved in."

"Really? Who?"

"This cute little Italian guy! He's really, really short, with these big ol' eyes, talks about pasta and art all the time! Luddy and I were talking at the water cooler about his little brother, you remember Gilbert, right? Anyway, all of the sudden, this little blur runs in and gives him this kiss on the cheek!"

"Oh no!" Matthew managed amidst his laughter. "What did he do?"

"He just turns bright red. Then, this guy, he just hands Ludwig this paper bag and is like, 'Ve~ Luddy, you forgot your lunch'," Al's impression was pretty good, but not quite perfect enough to relay the intense hilarity of the situation.

"The poor guy!" Mattie smiled.

"Ludwig just thanks him, and I'm standing there staring, ya know? So he turns to me and introduces me to _Feli_," Alfred emphasized the name, waiting a beat for his twin's reaction.

"No. _No_!" Matthew sounded delighted despite his words. "You don't mean-?"

"They're back," Alfred confirmed. "The crazy Vargas brothers have made their dramatic return."

"Maple, it's been so _long_!" Matthew exclaimed quietly, as lost in memories as Alfred had been.

"I was surprised I didn't recognize him," Al added. "I thought for sure we'd never see them again after Grandpa Julius passed away."

"And then they adopted the kids..."

"Do you think they've even reached first grade by now?"

"I couldn't say. We only knew them for a month before they left town..."

The brothers sighed in unison.

"Well, next time Feli comes to work I'll make sure to ask."

"Anyway, what happened?"

"Well, I introduced myself of course! And Feli recognized me- who could ever forget me?- but he had to go to his own job, so we didn't get a chance to talk."

"Aw. Well, if all else fails you can always ask Ludwig."

"True. I should probably get going. Arthur's getting impatient."

"It was nice talking to you! I'll try to come down again soon," Matthew assured.

"Don't sweat it! Love ya, bro," Alfred smiled sweetly.

"Love you too. Talk to you later."

The call ended, and Al tucked the phone in his back pocket before returning to the living room. Arthur was curled up at the base of the couch, a small nesting of blankets and pillows surrounding him.

"You call that a pillow fort?" Alfred teased. The six year old glared at him and turned his nose up haughtily.

"I think not. It's my own Ghost Portal," he announced.

"Really? And why is it on the ground?"

"Then you have to fly to get out."

"What if you can't fly?"

"Then you have to stay and become friends with a ghost."

"Yeah? What would you do?"

"I'd fly, of course!" Arthur sounded insulted, and Alfred tried hard not to laugh.

"Well maybe we better make sure!" The American cried as he scooped the boy into his arms. He held the boy up like Superman and ran around the room, powered by the child's happy squealing.

The rest of the morning was spent in a similar manner.


	2. Afternoon

[Chapter 2- Afternoon]

"Alright," Alfred announced sometime before lunch. "I think we can head down to the park now. You all ready to go, Artie?"

"I am," the six year old nodded. "And you? Do you have your jacket?"

"Yes, sir," the American mockingly answered.

"And your wallet?"

"Uh-huh."

"The _keys_?" The boy intoned his head knowingly. Alfred just pulled them out of his pocket and jingled them. Arthur crossed his arms. "And you have our lunch packed and ready to go?"

"Ah, crap!" The man ran back towards the kitchen.

"What would you do without me?" The child called after his retreating back, smirking slightly.

"Don't you be a smart aleck with me, kiddo. I'm the one in charge of your dessert!" Al mock-threatened. Arthur gasped mock-indignantly and stomped his foot.

"You wouldn't!"

"I would!" Alfred cackled. "Get in here and help me make the sandwiches!" The six year old scuttled after his older brother. They formed a mini-assembly lined. Alfred took the first piece of bread, slathered it with peanut butter, and set it aside. Arthur took the second half of the sandwich and applied a healthy dose of honey.

Then the six year old peeled the bananas and passed them to Al to be cut into slices. Finally, the duo arranged the slices on the peanut butter and placed the honey slice on top.

"Alfred, who taught you to make sandwiches like this?" Arthur asked as they put them into ziploc baggies.

"My ma. Mattie and I used to help her in the kitchen a lot, you know, and instead of peanut butter and jelly, we always made peanut butter-honey-banana," the older blonde explained and packed the sandwiches into a small cooler. He added some water bottles, an apple and the apple slicer, some crackers, and two chocolate pudding cups with spoons. "Okay, Artie. Are we ready to go now?"

"Are you wearing _socks_?" The boy checked. Al let out a belly-aching laugh and nodded as best he could. "Then yes, I think we can go."

The blondes exited the house side by side. They turned left at the bottom of the front steps and started the long walk down the sidewalk to the park. Ten minutes later found them at their destination. Al sat under the big tree near the edge of the park, setting the cooler down in the shade beside him.

"So, do you wanna play a little bit before lunch, or do you wanna eat and then play?" He asked his six year old companion. The child considered it for a moment.

"Can I play by myself for a little bit? You're a little too big for the playground..." The Brit gestured to the twenty year old's generally large frame.

"Sure! I'll be right here if you want me," Alfred smiled warmly. He pulled out a water bottle and began to drink it before he grabbed his phone. Arthur smiled as he walked away, grateful that his big brother was so nice.

The green eyed boy raced himself to the jungle gym and climbed to the top with a unusual grace for his age. He slipped down through the bars and began to build a story to play out. Mint Bunny came flying up to him after a little while, and Arthur asked the cute rabbit to play the princess in the tower. Soon, Arthur was surrounded by his little friends; he quickly gave them each a role in his story.

Suddenly, his friends scattered.

"'Ello, Anglettere," an accented voice greeted mockingly.

"I though I told you not to call me that, frog," Arthur growled and spun around to face his nemesis. The seven year old was flanked by his toads, the German and the Spaniard.

"Ish zhee little baby angry?" Gilbert teased. His red eyes glinted maliciously. "You're just jealous because ve're so much more awesome!"

"Guys..." Antonio mumbled weakly in protest. He had given up a long time ago, but Arthur was still a little touched he cared.

"Why on earth would I be jealous of a trio of stupid toads like you?" Arthur directed the comment towards Francis and Gilbert. "You're dumb, ugly, and Santa Claus has you on his naughty list."

"Oh ho ho," Francis smirked. "Zhee little Briton does not know."

"Santa Claus isn't real, lozer," the albino informed mockingly. Arthur gasped.

"Liar! He is too!" He shouted. "How dare you imply otherwise, you thickheaded, pungent, impudent-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," a friendly voice called out. Two hands settled on Arthur's shoulders and squeezed lightly. The blonde looked up to Alfred with a startled expression. "Those are some big words. What's goin' on here?"

Francis became visibly defensive, crossing his arms and shifting his weight anxiously. Gilbert tucked his hands behind his back and leaned back on his heels. Antonio just looked away quietly.

"We were just 'aving a talk with Arzhur," the French child stated cautiously. Alfred brightened.

"Great! I love talking! What are we talking about?" He asked. A ripple of unease went through the other children. Arthur finally decided to speak up.

Turning as best he could to address his older brother, he angrily informed, "They said Santa wasn't real!" Alfred looked at the trio with shock.

"Now why would you say something like that?"

"Mein bruder Ludwig told me Santa Claus is made up, and it'sh your family zhat gives you presents," Gilbert snapped.

"Well, I wouldn't say _that_," the American laughed. "Sure, your families are the ones who give you the presents, but why does that mean Santa's fake?"

"I..." Francis struggled for a moment. "I don't know."

"Santa's elves could make the toys at the North Pole! Who knows?" Alfred grinned.

"Zhat's true..." Gilbert fidgeted, twiddling his thumbs. "Sorry, I guess. I mean, about zhe Santa thing! He could be real, and magic could be real too..." Francis made a small sound but didn't disagree.

"Look! There's Romano! Let's go say hi!" Antonio cried and darted away.

"We already said hi to him five times!" Francis threw his hands in the air and chased after his friend.

"Um, bye, Arthur," Gilbert waved and followed his friends. Arthur turned to Alfred with a big smile.

"Come on. Let's go eat lunch and then we can play some more," the taller male said and scooped up his little brother. They made their way to the tree, Arthur chatting excitedly about the story he made up with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop typing "America" as "American." I seem to do it automatically. T^T
> 
> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: What kind of games did you play at the park, when you were younger?


	3. Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: IF YOU HAVE SOMEHOW NOT SEEN OR READ HARRY POTTER, THERE BE SPOILERS AHEAD

[Chapter 3- Evening]

"Arthur! Dinner time!"

The blond looked up from his book and trudged downstairs. He set the book beside him at the table and waited for Alfred to sit down. The table was already covered in plates and bowls. Mashed potatoes (from a box), meatloaf (from a microwaveable tray), corn (from a can), and cornbread (also from a box) filled the dishes.

"I can't wait for Thanksgiving," the six year old sighed. Al laughed.

"Why? So you can have some _real_ food for once? Where's the fun in that!" The American grinned and set a glass of iced tea next to the boy, before taking a seat himself.

"It's your turn to pray," Arthur insisted.

"Oh, alright. Dear Jesus, thank you for this day. Please bless this food to our bodies, amen!"

"Amen," Arthur repeated. He let Alfred dish his plate.

"So what book are you reading?" The twenty year old asked without looking at the cover.

"Alice in Wonderland," the child stated as he accepted his plate back.

"Again?" Alfred groaned teasingly. "Isn't there _any_ other book you can read?"

"Yao was talking about some of the books his brother has," the Brit offered. Alfred's eyebrow twitched.

"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"

"Backwards comic books. He brought one to show and tell. Miss Vogel seemed really excited."

"Did she? Do you think I should ask Kiku for some books for you?" The older brother offered.

"Maybe. But not any of the _girly_ ones! Yao likes the ones about kitties and princesses, but I want something adventurous," the green eyed boy insisted.

"Okay. I'll see what I can do," Alfred managed just before he took a big bite of corn.

"Do you have a movie picked out for tonight?" The child asked as he struggled to cut his meatloaf properly. Alfred reached over to cut it for him.

"Yeah, I was thinking, since you're a whole _six_ years old now, maybe you're ready for the next Harry Potter movie," he understated.

"_Really_?!" The boy almost exploded out of his seat.

"You like those, don't you?"

"Do I?! Of course! Who doesn't like Harry Potter! He's amazing! He's got magic and he flys on a broom and is friends with Hermione and-" The six year old started to ramble, as Alfred watched on in amusement.

Eventually, he had to cut the boy off. "Artie, you're dinner's getting cold."

"I told you to call me _Arthur_," the blond shoveled a large bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Right, right. Of course, Artie."

"Alfred!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

"It kind of is."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is too!"

"Is not! Darn it!" Alfred exclaimed. Arthur just smirked. "Finish your veggies and we might finish the movie before bath time." The boy nodded and began to eat once more.

-{[(•)]}-

Turns out Arthur- the six year old- was not old enough to be ready for _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. He started crying as soon as Cedric died, and Voldemort's return terrified him. Alfred had to repeatedly reassure him that Voldemort was just a fictional character and Robert Patterson was alive and well.

Bath time took an extra thirty minutes because Arthur kept thinking he heard noises and wanting to make sure they were safe. Alfred had to pull his Harry Potter costume down from the attic so he could go to bed with his wand.

Alfred made him stop before he could put a circle of salt around his bed.

"You'll be fine. And if any Dark wizards come in here, I'll be here to defend you in less than a second," the adult promised and kissed Arthur's head as he tucked him in.

The six year old nodded timidly and pulled the covers up past his chin. Al left with one last reassuring smile and turned the lights off.

"It's all right, Arthur!" Flying Mint Bunny cried, fluttering over. "You know Alfred will protect you!"

"Yeah," Brownie agreed, climbing on to the bed. "Alfred's the most powerful superhero of them all! He saved you from the bad men!"

"I-I guess that's true..." Arthur mumbled. "How will he know they're coming for me?"

"The same way he knows you're lying!"

"Or that you're being bullied!"

"Or that you're scared!"

"W-Well, alright. If you really think so," the boy murmured and turned over to go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: If you had to pick a movie to watch with teeny Arthur, what would you watch? I originally said The Princess Bride, but I think he might also enjoy Howl's Moving Castle or one of the Winnie the Pooh movies.


	4. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST-AHOY

[Chapter 4- Night]

_Running._

_He was running, and something was behind him._

_It was chasing him._

_He didn't know what it was._

_It was dark. Everything was dark._

_Sound didn't work right._

_There was a flash of light. Crackling, flickering, lighting._

_It was fire._

_He didn't like fire. He remembered the fire, and he was more scared of it than the dark that was chasing him._

_The dark caught him._

_The fire was everywhere, and now someone was screaming._

_Lots of screaming. Begging. Agony. Voices._

_It smelled bad, like meat that was going rotten._

_But the rotten meat was burning in the fire, and he didn't like it._

_He remembered the smell and he was more afraid of it than the fire._

_The darkness made the smell grow and grow. The burning, rotten meat looked like a person._

_It moved through the fire, shifting towards him._

_He tried to run away, but his legs were trapped._

_There were more bodies. Corpses. Zombies._

_They called for him and got closer and closer._

_One reached out._

_It was a lady. She had blonde hair. She was pretty. She smelled like lavender and tea. Her nails were pink and shiny._

_He smelled the nail polish when he looked at her hand._

_He remembered watching her paint her nails, and he was more afraid of her than he was of the dark or the fire or the smell._

_She grabbed him._

-[]-

Arthur bolted upright with a gasp. Tears bubbled up and spilled down his cheeks. His breathing was quick, and his heart beat so fast it hurt. Everything was blurry and shaky.

"Mint Bunny?" He choked out, looking around for his companion. The flying rabbit didn't appear, and he sobbed out harshly. "Brownie? Anyone?" He couldn't see anyone, and his closet was creaking, and everything was dark, and and and-

The boy dropped out of bed, grabbing his stuffed Doctor and sonic-screwdriver. He used the sonic to light the hallway as he leaned out of the doorway. The green light looked eery at night.

The Brit shuffled down the hallway. The Doctor was clutched tightly to his chest. His hand trembled as he tried to light the hall.

Eventually, he reached Alfred's room, and he carefully opened the door. He quickly shined the light in, finding Alfred. The older blonde was a giant, snoring lump in the sheets. Just the sight of him soothed the six year old a little.

As the light continued to shine on the adult's form, Alfred began to awaken. He yawned and scratched at his face.

"Artie?" He sighed. He rolled over to grab his glasses before he turned to the tiny blonde.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Alfred lifted the sheets at his side. Arthur let out a quiet breath and rushed forward to hide in the circle of his brother's arms.

Neither said a word, falling asleep again as though nothing had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: What is your favorite High School Musical song? Apparently my favorite back in 2015 was Fabulous, but I'd have to say now I adore Stick to the Status Quo.


	5. Red

[Chapter 5- Red]

Five year old Arthur stood in front of the Hetalia Elementary School's main building. Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert ran past him, pushing him and laughing. He stared after their retreating forms with a maelstrom of emotions.

He was confused and a little bit hurt, but he tried to cover it up with anger. They had no right to hurt him! They didn't know him yet! They were... They were supposed to be friends...

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred's voice called cheerfully. The Brit looked to the pickup line and saw the twenty year old in his bright blue pickup truck. The elder blonde was waving enthusiastically, hooting and hollering to get his attention.

Arthur huffily rolled his eyes and stomped over. He yanked over the door with as much force as he could. Then he roughly pulled himself up into the truck and buckled himself in.

"What's up, little man?" The American asked with a smile, turning around from the front seat to address him. "How was your first day at school?"

Arthur turned his nose up and pointedly looked out the window.

"Was your teacher nice? Did you make any friends?" The blue eyed man tried again. The child again refused to answer, and the smile faded from Alfred's face. "Oh, um, okay. Let's just, um, go home then." He turned back around and pulled out of the parking lot.

The radio played quietly for a few minutes before Alfred turned it off.

"Somebody's a grumpy bug. You wanna talk about it?" He asked as he looked into the mirror. The boy huffed and angrily kicked the back of Alfred's seat. "Hey! What's up with you? What _happened_ today? You were a little ball of sunshine this morning!"

Arthur had finally had enough.

"You _lied_ to me! That's what happened!" The five year old shouted, his voice pitching higher in anger.

"Whoa!" Alfred frowned and glanced back at him. "When did I lie?"

Arthur turned back to the window, too angry to say any more.

"No, little man. We're going to talk about this," Alfred stated. Now he was getting angry, but he did his best to push it away.

They pulled into the driveway of Alfred's house, and Arthur grabbed all his stuffed and shoved his way out of the truck. He ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. Some of his stuff spilled out of his arms.

He stared at it for a moment, feeling tears in his eyes, but he pushed them away and tried to pull his anger back to him. He screamed as loudly as he could and kicked the things that had fallen.

"Whoa!" Suddenly Arthur was pulled into the air, still kicking and screaming. "Artie! Arti- Arthur! _Arthur_!"

"_You lied to me!_" The five year old screeched. "_You promised you wouldn't lie!_"

"What did I lie about?!" Alfred yelled back. The kid tried to take a swing at him, but Alfred just held both of his little wrists in one hand. "Kid! Calm down!"

"_You said it would be fun! You said I would make friends! You said people would like me! You said I would like it!_" The child shrieked. He panted for a moment before let loose a long, wild wail in Alfred's face. His cheeks were flushed red when he finished.

"Geez," the American breathed. He gave Arthur a sharp look. "You done now?"

"No!"

"Yes, you are," the blue eyed man snapped. He moved them into the living room and sat both of them down. "Are you going to get violent again?"

"No," the boy muttered moodily and shifted away. The twenty year old let him, releasing the thin wrists.

"Now. What the _heck_ happened today?" Alfred demanded.

"It wasn't fun at all. Everyone laughed at me for not saying the alphabet like Ms. Vogel! And that stupid frog beat me up and took my snack!" Tears finally came forth, though the kid still sounded angry.

"A frog stole your snack?"

"Francis! He think's he _all_ that because he has pretty hair and nice clothes!" Arthur cried. "He and the toads called me stupid and ugly and short-"

"Oh, Artie," Alfred softened immediately. "It wasn't supposed to be that way. I'm sure you'll make friends with someone. I'll call Ms. Vogel about Fran-"

"No! I don't wanna be a tattletale!" The green eyed boy declared and slapped his hands down on the coffee table. The adult shook his head.

"Sometimes, you need to tell the teacher. You can't let people bully you. It hurts you, but think about Francis? If we let him be mean now, what will he be later?" The man questioned.

"He'll still be mean..." The five year old mumbled.

"Exactly. We should try to nip this in the bud right away," Alfred nodded and stood up. "Do you have any homework?"

"What's that?"

"Right, kindergarten," the twenty year old drooped dramatically, missing the easier years. "Well, let's take care of this."

"Okay..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: Who is your favorite artist? I have appreciated Van Gogh and Degas for many years, but as I've learned more about digital art, I have found others I like on YouTube and Tumblr and stuff. If you're interested, I have a Tumblr where I do some fairly sporadic drawings: https://pansy-chic27213.tumblr.com


	6. Yellow

[Chapter 6- Yellow]

"Hey, Artie! Hope you're feeling creative, because I'm taking us to a special art class, and then we're going to make our own pizza!" Alfred called through the house.

"Really?!" Arthur cried, hopping down the stairs. His feet were already clad in brightly colored sneakers that lit up when he walked; he'd wanted boots, but they weren't really practical for day to day. "That sounds AWEsome!"

"Well, good! Come one, kiddo, into the mighty metal carriage!"

The truck rumbled down the street to the place Alfred had seen a few weeks ago. The building itself was a slightly annoying yellow, but the prices posted in the window were fantastic and the events had great reviews online.

Alfred led the five year old into the foyer and checked in for the class he had scheduled. The secretary directed them to a room down the hallway on the right, and the blondes gave cheerful thanks.

They stopped short when they reached the room.

Women and little girls sat in a large circle, chittering and giggling like women do. There was a lot of pink and sparkles and frills.

"Nope."

Alfred turned around and tried to leave, but Arthur just rolled his eyes and dragged him inside.

"You promised!" He whispered. "Who cares if it's a class for girls!"

"My manhood!" Alfred hissed back, red in the face.

"Isn't that just precious!" Cooed one of the mothers. "He brought his son!"

"He must be so sensitive!"

"Look at how sweet they look!"

Artie found himself giggling until the teacher walked in.

Unsurprisingly, the teacher was another woman, dressed in all pink. She wasn't very pretty though; her face looked like a horrible toad. She looked around the room with a terrifyingly fake smile until she noticed the two males.

"Well!" She giggled. "Isn't this delightful! We finally have some fine young men with us!"

She started to teach the class, speaking like everyone was five years old. Her condescending voice made the gentlemen want to throw up, but they focused on having fun and chuckled to each other quietly instead.

They ended up make little pieces of pottery and painting them.

Alfred's was tall and thick, like an overgrown jar. It was decorated like the american flag, but with a poorly painted eagle where the ends of the flag would have connected.

Arthur's was short, perfectly round, and delicate, like a teacup. It was white, with yellow-orange trim and dainty flowers. The flowers were carefully painted, but they _were_ painted by a five year old, so they weren't _amazing_.

Still, both boys were proud of their pottery, and they planned to make a stop to the gardening store on the way home so they would grow some flowers in them.

The pizza making when even better than the art class.

They got cute paper hats like chefs, and Alfred even helped Artie draw a little mustache on his lip so he could look like a real cook.

Half the pizza was designated as Al's, and the other half was Artie's. They carefully set theirs up so each part looked like half of a face. Alfred tried to make his look like George Washington, and Arthur attempted a very cute representation of Uncle Mattie.

Alfred took pictures to post online and send to family.

The pizza was also delicious, and they had enough leftovers for the rest of the week!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: What is your favorite meme? I can't get over the little frog on the unicycle.


	7. Green

[Chapter 7- Green]

Arthur watched Vash interacting with his big sister, with his little arms crossed and his bright green eyes narrowed. The other boy looked undeniably happy, even with the faint frown on his face and consistent conversation about weaponry and money. Mrs. Vogel laughed at something her little brother said, and the five year old had had enough.

Arthur stormed away, ignoring the female teachers and the mothers tending to their children. It wasn't fair!

That's when he noticed Mr. Honda and Ms. Chung struggling with Yao. The Asian woman looked very pretty in her green dress and hair pins. She had long, brown hair and earthy, brown eyes. She smiled gently at Yao, carefully steering him to the car.

That dark emotion flared in Arthur, and his green eyes flashed in the light.

With a quick look around, he realized Alfred hadn't arrived to pick him up yet. The boy quickly ran towards the Asian family, a plan forming in his head.

"Yao!" He cried, feigning excitement. "Yao, wait up!"

"Arthur?" The Chinese boy frowned. "Why are you-"

"You should come hang out with me this weekend!"

"Oh," Ms. Chung frowned. "We're sorry, ...Arthur? Yao's older brother Kiku has to work this weekend."

"But _you_ could bring him over," Arthur pointed out. "You could spend time with _my_ big brother Alfred! He's _really_ nice, and you could watch both of us!"

"I don't-" Yao started again.

"Sure! That sounds okay," the woman smiled, hair flowing in the breeze. "It'll be nice to get to know some of the other... parents? Anyway, where do we meet?"

"At our house!" Arthur cheered and wrote out the address as quickly as he could.

"Are you sure this is okay with your brother?" She asked finally.

"Of course!"

"But-" Yao tried a third time.

"ARTIE! It's time to _vamoose_!" Alfred called, waving wilding from his truck as he usually did.

"Okay!" Arthur called back. "See you Saturday? At 9?"

"Sure, Saturday at 9 sounds perfect," she agreed.

"Brilliant!" The Brit grinned and ran back to the pick-up area.

-[]-

"You just invited someone to our house?! Without asking me?!" Alfred burst, Saturday morning. He ran around, cleaning as much as he could. "Why would you do that?!"

"You wanted me to make _friends_, didn't you?" Arthur called, drawing a picture of Alfred and Ms. Chung holding hands.

"Of course! But maybe talk to me next time?" Alfred frowned; his eyebrows pinched together. "What is that?"

The doorbell rang.

"Shoot! Shoot!" Alfred panicked, running to the door.

"Good morning," Ms. Chung greeted. She hadn't looked up yet from adjusting Yao's shirt.

She glanced up for a moment, and time froze. The adults both blushed; the young woman quickly stood up.

"I'm Chung Lien, but you can just call me Lien," she offered. Just as she stepped forward to shake hands with him, Arthur flicked a marble under her foot. She went flying forward, right into Alfred's chest. "Oh!"

"I'M SO SORRY!" Both adults shouted, jumping away from each other.

Yao rolled his eyes, "Let's go play." He dragged Arthur upstairs. The Brit led them to his room and closed the door. "Okay. Spill. What was _that_?"

"I saw you and your sister the other day, and I thought of how lonely my brother is, and I realized they were perfect for each other!" Arthur grinned.

"How exactly are they perfect for each other?!" Yao whisper-yelled and smacked the other boy upside the head. "And it's never going to work! My sister is good friends with Ivan!"

"The scary Russian guy Al always rants about?" Arthur questioned uncertainly.

"Everyone in town knows they hate each other!" Yao threw his hands up. "They won't even talk to people that are friends with the other!"

"So, it's like Romeo and Juliet!" Arthur pointed out triumphantly. "They're star-crossed lovers!"

"NO! Romeo and Juliet DIE! This is reality, and someone's going to get hurt!"

-[]-

It turned out Yao was unusually wise for a kindergartener.

Alfred and Lien ended up going on one date, but by the end of the week, they were fighting and upset with each other. Al came home everyday exhausted and unhappy, and Arthur regretted ever pushing the two together.

-[]-

"I'm sorry!" Arthur burst when he noticed Alfred wiping his eyes after getting off the phone with Ms. Chung.

"You have no reason to be sorry," Alfred smiled sadly and ruffled the boy's hair. Somehow, that made everything worse.

"It's all my fault!" Arthur cried, tears racing down his cheeks. "I made them come over for a playdate so you would like her and I could have a mum because everyone else has one but me now and I was just stupidly jealous and I've been really bad-" He gasped "-and I'm so, so sorry because now you're fighting and sad and I didn't want you to be sad and I'm SORRY!"

The wail was the last noise in the house for a few minutes.

Alfred snorted. Then he chuckled. Which turned into a giggle. Which became full-blown laughter.

When he recovered, he grabbed the keys and brought Arthur to the car.

"Where are we going?" The five year old sniffled.

"We're gonna visit someone."

-[]-

An hour later, the truck rumbled to a stop in front of a small, yellow house. The shutters were a light green, and the trim was a warm, creamy white. The petit yard was decorated with colorful flowers and lots of outdoor toys. On the right side of the house was an old apple tree, with a tire swing hanging a little too close to the fence. The driveway was colored with painted hand and foot prints. Even the mailbox was bright and welcoming, with rainbow letters spelling 'Jones.'

"Hey, open up!" Alfred banged on the door. "It's the FBI!" Arthur quickly covered his mouth to hide his giggles.

"We're not the FBI!" He whispered.

"Shhh!" Alfred grinned. "Don't tell anyone!"

The door opened on an elderly woman, who looked very healthy. Her hair was pulled back in a fluffy pony tail, exposing her thin neck, and her back was straight and proud. Her arms opened for a welcoming hug, and her eyes shone with warmth and joy.

"Al! I wasn't expecting you! I just made snickerdoodles. C'mon in!" She gestured after getting a hug from each of you. "This must be the little British gentleman I've heard so much about! How do you do?"

"I'm fine," Arthur murmured a little shyly, trailing behind them. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm wonderful! Here, have a coo- a biscuit!" She handed him one of the fresh snickerdoodles. He nibbled it and hummed with delight.

"So!" She turned on Alfred with a happy smile. "You're obviously here for something! Do you need money, young man? Because I don't do that anym-"

"No, no," Alfred laughed, cheeks red. "Arthur said he missed having a mom figure, and a'course I thought of you, Ma." She frowned faintly and observed the five year old.

"Well, of course!" She finally decided, smiling again. "Finally, _one_ of you boys has made me a grandma!"

"Which is weird, because Artie's my little brother, but he still calls Mattie his uncle..." Alfred pondered. The woman laughed.

"C'mon! I'll show you some of my old person board games," she led them into the living room, and all Arthur's dark feelings washed away like water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: If you could live anywhere, where would you live? I think I want to live in a smaller neighborhood, in an area with low housing costs. I'd love to be able to go to local restaurants, bakeries, and stores, and know the owners and employees more personally.


	8. Blue

[Chapter 8- Blue]

Alfred frowned and turned the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life, and he quickly pulled out into the street. The drive to the school was quiet; he didn't even bother turning the radio on. The American parked silently, grabbed his keys, and hopped out of the vehicle. He quickly jogged up the front steps of the school. He turned down the halls, running hands back and forth through his blonde hair, and stepped into the principal's office.

Immediately, a little British leech latched onto his legs, crying silently. Al bent down and carefully scooped him up. The blue eyed man turned to the principal, who was watching in silence.

"This needs to stop," the twenty year declared. "If anything happens like this again, I'll be dealing with it myself." The principal nodded solemnly, and the young man hurriedly left the building once more. He climbed into the back of the truck, just taking some time to sit with the weeping five year old.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alfred questioned softly, stroking the boy's hair and wiping at his tears. The child shook his head and cried even harder, but still didn't make a sound. "I'm gonna drive us home, okay?" The American buckled his little brother in and climbed into the front seat. He soon pulled the truck out of the school parking lot and headed towards home.

Again, the car was silent.

"I _hate_ school," Arthur muttered bitterly through his tears. "I hate it."

"Oh, Artie," Alfred sighed. He bit his lip, upset and angry and distressed that stuff like this kept happening to the poor kid. "I... It's..."

"I hate it!" Arthur insisted and started to cry again. "_Why_ do I have to go?"

"Because there are important things you have to learn to survive in life," Alfred answered sadly. "I wish we could transfer schools or _something_, but there aren't any other public schools in the area and I don't have enough money for us to go private."

"So lets move somewhere else!" Arthur sobbed. The truck pulled into the driveway.

"Artie," Alfred pleaded. "I'm so sorry. You know we can't. But I'll work it out with the school, and we'll call the parents, and-"

"_No_!" Artie cried. He ran into the house. Alfred quickly chased after him. "You always say things like that! But it never works and everybody hates me and it's all still bad!"

"We can work this out-"

"NO! You never do _anything_ right! You always make _everything_ worse! I hate it! I hate your stupid plans and ideas and I hate your stupid food and I hate living here and I hate _you_!" The five year old screamed out. He ran for the stairs, leaving Alfred in tears in the foyer. Faintly, the twenty year old hear the child's last whisper. "_I wish you never adopted me_."

Arthur's door slammed, shaking the house, before the small building settled into silence.

Alfred sagged against the wall. He stared at the doorway across from him, eyes moistening more and more by the minute. Small droplets dribbled down his cheeks and dropped to the carpet. Slowly his lips parted, whether to say something or simply make some kind of noise, he didn't know. After a long moment, they closed again.

Dazedly, he pushed himself up and collapsed at the kitchen table. He buried his face in his arms, trying desperately to not look at the room. Him and Artie... Arthur had been painting it a cheerful yellow, but now...

The man silently whimpered. His whole body began to tremble with noiseless tears. He curled in on himself, feeling cold.

What was he doing wrong? He tried everything to help Arthur... Was he really making everything worse? Hadn't talking to the teacher helped? Hadn't...? Wasn't...? Didn't...?

Shakily, he grabbed his phone. He stared at his contacts hopelessly. But no. This was his problem... He couldn't- shouldn't rely on others all the time, should he? He didn't need to burden them with his problems...

But...

But he didn't know what to _do_!

-[]-

Arthur slowly crept down the stairs. It was later in the evening, and he could smell dinner cooking. Why didn't Alfred call for him to come down? Was he angry?

The child peeked into the half-finished kitchen. Alfred was slowly working in the kitchen, tiredly plating food and gingerly setting the table. Arthur stepped into the room and found himself staring at the quiet scene.

Alfred turned around, revealing red eyes and a horribly mangled expression. It was one of the first times the boy had seen his adoptive brother frown, really frown. The adult's face was a pale red, his hair was mussed and messy, and his glasses were dirty. Even his shirt was wrinkled.

The twenty year old jumped, not having realized the five year old was there. He went for a smile, but it dimmed quickly at the kid's confused face. Arthur shuffled for a moment.

It wasn't that he had forgotten what had happened. But usually when they fought or something bad happened Alfred worked everything out and fixed it. The American would come up to his room and talk to him, or they would go outside for fresh air, or... Arthur didn't know! He just... Alfred always seemed to know exactly what he needed and what they should do.

The boy felt kind of bad for what he said, especially seeing what Alfred looked like. But he had no idea how to fix it, and Alfred wasn't trying to fix it either, and what if Al was actually really, really mad and was going to send him back and-

"Are we going to eat?" The five year old demanded, startling even himself. Alfred jumped and nodded quickly, even stepping out of the way. The Brit sat down and stared at his lone plate. "Where's _your_ food?"

"Not hungry," Al muttered, almost shyly, and retreated to the living room. Arthur's eyes widened, and he stared at his favorite meal in surprise. He yelled at Alfred, and he wasn't getting punished? Instead, getting what he _liked_, even?

What did he _do_?

-[]-

The blondes stayed like that for a week. The house was quiet. Toys stayed upstairs all day, and little boys stayed in their rooms all nights. Alfred said almost nothing, ate almost nothing, and did almost nothing.

At school, everything seemed to suddenly be improving. The bullies stayed away and the other kids talked to Arthur and he turned everything in on time. The principal made all the bullies apologize to him in person and give him letters to say they were sorry.

But Flying Mint Bunny and his other friends stayed away as well. They seemed upset with him, and no matter how much he called for them, they refused to come back.

Uncle Mattie called. He seemed worried, but he listened patiently as Arthur talked about everything at school. He asked to talk to Al, but the older blonde was locked in his room.

-[]-

"Can we get ice cream?" Arthur asked on the way home. Al shook his head. "Why not? I've been good all week, and I got good grades, and the bullies left me alone."

"You haven't had dinner," Al explained quietly. "It's not good for you."

"Tch. Jerk," the boy huffed. He ignored the way Alfred flinched.

-[]-

"I want to watch this!" Arthur scowled, pointing to the tv that had just been turned off. Alfred shook his head.

"You're too young. That'll scar you for life, trust me."

"You're so mean!" The five year old stomped up the stairs. He ignored Alfred's soft, sad noise. He didn't care! Alfred just didn't let him do what he wanted because Al was angry! Which isn't fair at all!

-[]-

"C'mon, Arthur," Alfred murmured gently. "It's time to go home."

"What?! No way! I wanna keep playing!" Arthur snapped. He kicked the box in front of him, making Alfred jump.

"It's almost your bedtime. You're gonna be super tired tomorrow if we stay," the twenty year old pleaded.

"I don't care! You always ruin everything!" The boy shrieked and huffily made his way to the truck. He avoided looking at Alfred as much as possible.

-[]-

"I want-"

"_Please_, Arthur," Alfred begged. "Please no more." Tears slipped down his cheeks. "I can't do this- What happened? You were so sweet and kind and loving. The bullies leave you alone, you're doing well in school, you have toys and games and tv and food and a bed and a roof over your head. Why are you acting like this? _Do you hate me that much_?"

"I..." Arthur's voice faded away as the blue eyed man began to cry. Everything about the twenty year old had become soft and fragile and _weak_.

"I'm _sorry_," Al wept. "I'm doing my _best_ here. I know, it's not perfect, but I don't know how to fix everything or do everything or even- even-" He slipped down, crying on the floor.

Arthur couldn't even open his mouth again. His entire world was starting to shake apart, and... and what had he _done_?! Why did he keep being so _cruel_ to Alfred?! All his big brother did was take care of him, and here he was, treating Al so horribly because he didn't want to _apologize_?! He was... He was even worse than the bullies!

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, beginning to cry as well. "I shouldn't have yelled at you or been mean to you or keep asking for things or anything of that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't hate you. I _love_ you. I'm sorry. Thank you. You give me more and more and more, and I should never ask for anything ever, ever again, and I'm so, so sorry."

The tiny Brit wrapped his arms as far around the man as he could, and Alfred clutched at him. They cried and cried and cried, soaking each other's shirts and generally making a mess. After a while, Arthur had cried himself to sleep, and Al carefully moved them to the couch. He curled around his little brother and bundled them together in blankets.

He continued to cry, until he eventually fell asleep with a soft smile and tears on his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I wrote this while I was on the bus in France??
> 
> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: If you could build a monument anywhere, where would you build it and what would it be of? I don't know who I would make one of. Maybe Paul the Apostle, or the author of Astro Boy, Osamu Tezuka.


	9. First

[Chapter 9- First]

Alfred scowled and adjusted his suit jacket, regretting most of his decisions today. Why on earth had he thought it a good idea to go out in _England_, without an _umbrella_? Now, he had to walk back to the hotel, in the rain, after the sun had set. If he didn't get robbed or murdered, pneumonia would be the next worry on his list.

"Why do I do this to myself?" He scowled. He adjusted his jacket one more time and hesitated. He didn't really want to walk in the rain... Maybe he could call some kind of taxi?

Thunder rumbled ominously across London. The heavens cracked open in a flash of blinding glory, and suddenly, it wasn't just drizzling anymore.

It was _pouring_.

Alfred could almost hear each individual drop of rain as it pounded against the pavement, somehow soaking it even further than before.

"Alright, alright!" The American threw his hands up in surrender. He glared up into the sky, then turned his gaze back onto the slippery sidewalk he would need to somehow traverse. "I'm going, I'm going." He huffed, yanked his jacket over his head, and sprinted.

The chill settled into his bones like a blanket of snow, and he started to shiver so hard he could barely see two inches in front of his face. Although, he already couldn't see due to the water pellets being flung in his eyes. He couldn't _believe_ he forgot to tuck his glasses into his bag!

Sweet mother of Congress, why was he being such an _idiot_ today?! He walked to the conference hall from his hotel instead of driving. He forgot not only his umbrella, but half the files he'd been asked to bring. He didn't think to wear a raincoat or hat, and he agreed to stay late, even though he'd have to walk home in the dark!

Alfred grunted his frustration, figuring he'd deal with it if he somehow managed to get to his hotel _alive_.

"_H-Hello?_"

The man froze in his stilted run. The voice had come from...

...BEHIND HIM!

Alfred screamed and started to run, but the slippery sidewalk tripped him up and he found himself flat on his face instead!

"Please don't kill meeeeeeee!" He screeched, scrambling to crawl away. A horrifyingly pale face peeked out of the alley near him, and he almost fell into the street out of sheer terror.

"M-Mister?" A tiny child's voice asked. A little boy stepped forward from the darkness, revealing sopping blonde hair and wet green eyes.

Alfred immediately felt his heart start to slow.

"Geez, kid," he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He failed to looked casual. "What're you thinking, giving me a scare like that?"

The boy didn't respond.

"Are you lost?" Alfred asked. He gathered up some things he'd let go of, then dropped into a crouch in front of the child. "Where's your parents?"

The little boy's eyes seemed to get impossibly larger and wetter. His entire lower face trembled precariously, and he sniffled weakly, like he could possibly hold back the torrent that was coming.

"Aw, hey, it's okay!" Al felt his heart bleeding. "Why don't we find a cop, or someone who can help you..." He looked over the kid, who immediately sneezed. "Look, why don't we go get dry, and eat something. And then I'll help you out, okay?"

The boy nodded weakly, holding out his arms to be carried.

Alfred grumbled slightly, but he scooped the kid up anyway. He carefully removed his jacket, and wrapped it around the child. Even though it was pretty much pointless by now.

The little boy snuggled up against his chest. He obviously enjoyed the warmth, even through his entire body was shaken as Alfred resumed his quick pace.

"So!" Alfred panted slightly. He should probably work out more and stop spending so much time at his desk. "My name's Alfred! What's yours?"

"I-I'm..." The boy's face crumpled and disappeared into his chest. Al could just barely make out the words, "_I'm Arthur..._"

"Well, Arthur! It's nice to meet you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: Do you like the rain? What's your favorite kind of rain? I like a light, warm drizzle, while I'm under an overhang. In my ideal fantasy, I also have a cup of tea and my laptop to write on. (Not that I'm very good about writing anymore!!)


	10. Second

[Chapter 10- Second]

"C'mon, kiddo," Alfred encouraged lightly, unlocking his hotel room with the old-timey key. "Let's get you dry and full!" The entire hotel room was smaller than his bedroom back home, and most of the floor space was taken up by furniture. There was a twin sized bed shoved up against the wall, a vanity dresser complete with giant mirror, a miniature nightstand with a lamp, and his suitcase. Right next to the main entrance was the thin door for the bathroom, which was a good deal smaller than his _pantry_.

Alfred quickly set Arthur on the bed and went to retrieve the only towel available. He bundled the child up as soon as returned, then used a washcloth to dry the boy's hair. It was a bit of a slow process, especially with all the wet clothes in the way.

"You want to get out of this and put on something warm?" Alfred gestured to the soaked nightgown. The kid nodded uncertainly, but latched on to the clean t-shirt that was offered. Before Alfred could blink, the boy had disappeared into the bathroom to change.

"Welp," Al smacked his lips. "I guess you don't need my help."

Small hiccups and whimpers drifted from the door.

"Or not..." The man knocked on the wood cautiously. "Hey, kid? You okay in there?" The answer was muffled. "I'm gonna open the door, okay?"

Alfred opened the door, surprised to see the blonde child sprawled across the floor, wrestling with the t-shirt. After a moment of staring in bewilderment, the boy spoke up.

"'_m stuck_," the whisper danced up to Al's ears. The twenty year old chuckled and bent down to offer assistance. He didn't even know how someone could mess up putting a shirt on, but apparently that _was_ a thing.

After fixing Arthur up, they moved back into the hotel room to find food. Arthur was set up on the bed, bundled in a blanket, while Alfred searched. The man scowled when he realized he had finally run out of the snacks that had been packed in his suitcase. With a sigh, he glanced back at the child.

The boy was already starting to doze.

Al chewed on his lip for a moment, then gently called out, "Hey, looks like I'm out of food. I'm gonna run and get some more. Just stay here okay?" Arthur looked up at him with wary eyes.

The business man turned on the tv, hoping that would keep the little boy occupied until he could return.

-[]-

"Look what I've got!" The blonde stumbled into the room, victoriously holding up a plastic bag of food. He was soaked once again, so he dropped the food on the bed and immediately began to change.

Silence was his only response.

With the tv running in the background, Al glanced over at his young companion. The boy was fast asleep.

Alfred sighed, drooping. He quietly resumed drying off, then put the food over the heating grate on the floor. Hopefully the food would still be okay when they woke up.

And with that, he flopped down on the bed and fell asleep.

-{[(*)]}-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: What is your favorite kind of music? (I accidentally typed human when I wrote that, so feel free to also share your favorite type of human!)


	11. Third

[Chapter 11- Third]

After eating and properly dressing for the cold weather, Alfred hailed an Uber. They were driven to the nearest police station, and Alfred paid the young man who had taken them.

Stepping into the police station was an unexpected experience for Alfred, as it seemed almost like any similar station in the U.S. There was a police officer sitting at the reception desk, taking calls and occasionally welcoming people further back into the offices. Behind the reception desk, more police officers were doing paperwork, talking seriously or amicably, or moving from one end of the station to the other. There were more structured offices at the back of the building.

"How can I help you, sir?" The officer at the reception desk greeted them with a somewhat grim smile. He noticed Arthur standing shyly at Alfred's side and addressed him as well, "And you, poppet?"

"Um," Alfred fumbled, unsure how to smart. Maybe he shouldn't have taken Artie back to the hotel with him? "Well, I found him wandering the streets last night... by himself..."

"Oh," the officer said, sounding pitying. "That's rough, poppet! C'mon then! Let's go find someone who can help you back to yer parents." He stood up and led Arthur to one of the cubicles in the back. Alfred waited patiently, wondering what to do next. When the officer returned, he gave the American a sad smile. "We'll take care of 'em, don't you worry."

"What if you can't find his parents? What happens then?" Alfred fretted, remembering what had happened when he asked Arthur about his parents last night.

"Well..." The officer hummed. "If that 'appens, he'll be in police custody for the next 72 hours. We don't find anyone else and no one comes to claim him in that time? He's... erm, going to the local orphanage..." The man's face fell empathetically.

"R-Really?" Alfred chewed on his lower lip in thought. "That's awful..."

"It'll be alright! Cute little chap like that? He'll be swooped up before you know it!" The man tried to cheer him up.

Alfred leaned to the side, catching sight of the kid's blonde hair barely peeking over the back of a chair. He thought about his life, and about the past day or so, and about Arthur. He thought about his house back in the U.S, and his mom, and his brother.

He probably thought harder than he should.

He turned to leave, a small ache in his chest. His job was done, right? He'd done his part, and Arthur would go to a home where he was loved and cared for and... And Alfred could go, because Arthur didn't need him now.

He reached for the door, but a tiny hand on the hem of his shirt stopped him. He looked down and found Arthur's big green eyes staring up at him. The boy flushed a light pink and quickly looked away.

"You left your coat..." The kid held out the jacket he'd worn to the station.

"Uh, thanks," Al chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

"You shouldn't just leave things around, y'know," Artie declared, glaring at the floor. "Don't forget things you're gonna need."

"You're sure a lot more talkative, now," Alfred teased. He knelt down and gave Arthur a warm, all American smile. "Don't worry! I'll make sure I got all my stuff."

"Okay..." Arthur spun around and crossed his arms over his tiny chest. "Good!" He stomped over to the reception desk and stopped. Slowly, he turned around and watched Alfred with those big eyes again.

Hesitantly, Alfred rose to his feet and started for the door again. The ache in his chest spread.

Something sparked.

The American jogged back to the reception desk, gave Artie a side-hug, and looked the officer in the eye.

"I need to make a call."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: Do you have any lighthearted or funny cop stories? One time my mom and I got pulled over because someone had stolen her license plate. The cop turned out to be one of her friends from high school, so he escorted us home and told us what to do about the situation.


	12. Last

[Chapter 12- Last]

"Here we are!" Alfred exclaimed brightly. He turned off the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition of his new truck. "Our house..."

The twenty-one year old stepped out and stared up at the new two-story house in delight. The outside could use some new paint, and everything looked like it was in need of a good cleaning, but the sun was shining and the birds were chirping and life was good. There were weeds growing among the flowers, a layer of dust covered the new porch, and the overgrown grass spilled over the cobbled path to the door.

Alfred moved around the side and helped Arthur get out of the vehicle. The boy stared up into the house, clutching to his pant leg.

"We're gonna live her now, Artie. Wha'dya think?" The American encouraged. After living in England for a year to get the right to adopt the child, he was glad to be back on good ol' American soil.

"It's big," the quiet boy observed. Alfred laughed.

"It is! You see that room, way up there?" The man knelt down by the kid's side and pointed to one of the gleaming windows. "That's yours!"

"Mine?" Arthur looked at him in pleased surprise. He turned back to the house, cheeks flushing slightly. "I guess it's okay..." Al smiled at him, standing up and ruffling his hair.

"C'mon, let's head inside. We gotta get unpacked so we can start fixing this place up!" The young man led the boy indoors. The moving truck would arrive in an hour or so, as would some of Alfred's friends, just to help them get moved in.

He wanted to give Arthur the time between to adjust and get settled.

The living room was dark and dusty until Alfred pulled the curtains apart. Dust motes swirled through the empty sunlight and settled on the carpet. Arthur wandered around the room, poking the holes in the walls and picking at the chipping paint.

"Well..." Alfred bit his lip. His face soon bloomed into a goofy grin. "If we put the tv there and the couch there and the bookshelf there, then we'll totally have enough room to make blanket forts and have sleepovers!" Arthur looked over at him, shocked and a little giddy, but didn't say anything.

"Let's check out the kitchen!" Alfred guided them into the next room. Curling wallpaper revealed the damaged wall beneath. The tiles in the floor were cracked, but the cabinets seemed to gleam. All of the appliances were updated enough to be fine. "So, wha'dya say we pull down this wall paper and paint this whole room a new color?"

Arthur shrugged and bent down to play with a loose piece of tile. Alfred swiftly removed it from his grasp and set it in one of the cabinets, to be thrown away later. He distracted the boy from his actions by asking, "What color? Blue? Oh, maybe a light red!"

"You mean pink?" Arthur's face twisted slightly, as though he wanted to smirk but was holding himself back.

"No! Light red," Alfred sniffed, with a sly wink. They moved to the upstairs, looking through the bedrooms, until finally...

"And this one's yours!" Alfred threw open the door. Arthur cautiously stepped in behind him, as though expecting some kind of attack. When he realized nothing was going to happen, he began to look around. There wasn't much to the room, really, but...

"I have my own room," Arthur smiled quietly, swinging the closet door back and forth. Alfred watched him with a soft grin.

A car honked outside, and Mattie's soft yell drifted up afterwards. Gilbert cackled wildly, and the sound of the front door slamming open was their final clue to the arrival of both their moving truck and Alfred's friends.

"Come on!" Alfred grabbed Artie's hand and started to lead him downstairs. "Let's go unpack the truck and start setting everything up!" Arthur giggled loudly when, at the bottom of the stairs, Alfred swung him up into the air and spun him around. They stepped through the shining doorway to the calls of their happy friends and family.

Their journey was only beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: What did you think? Did you like this story? Did you have any favorite moments or lines? Is there something you would have liked to see?
> 
> This is one of my favorite stories that I have written, simply because it is one of the only truly fluffy fics in my repertoire. And I'm just really happy with the concept, how it developed, and how it turned out. Not only is there a Reversal of the characters lives, but the story is really told in reverse.

**Author's Note:**

> QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: Which Hogwarts house are you in? I'm a Hufflepuff! I have Ravenclaw and Slytherin tendencies.


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